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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007106">two doves that shade the blaze of my longing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/eclipsed'>eclipsed (lucitae)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Getting Together, M/M, aigamo farming, little bit of post time skip, more sunakita &amp; osakita tho, sorta canon compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:22:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/eclipsed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Suna Rintarou knows what love looks like. Or at least what a belligerent crush may appear as. Seen it reflected in a mirror where red dyes the tips of ears, pulse of his heart pounds in his head, and the place where fingers brushed less static and more hand placed on heated electric stove: scalding.</p><p>Osamu doesn’t look like himself. He looks more like the Rintarou reflected in the mirror than anything else.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kita Shinsuke/Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevolos/gifts">nevolos</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>as always, thank you <a href="https://twitter.com/caaarot_">rhom</a> for sowing the seeds in my head.</p><p>it started from reading <a href="https://twitter.com/kitaeun/status/1294556018412859392">this tweet</a> and the art inspired by it: <a href="https://twitter.com/elusive_elisa/status/1296939850126434305">1</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/roseschans/status/1298820674568335360">2</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/bulbaasaur/status/1294655811772223488">3</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/mochi_oo2/status/1263069779541151745">4</a>. then spiraled into a conversation of osasunakita and here we are.</p><p>there's a scene heavily inspired by ume's lovely <a href="https://twitter.com/irleggsy/status/1303575306503163906?s=20">art piece</a>!</p><p>and i commissioned iris for the <a href="https://twitter.com/shokurensei/status/1322503886565896192?s=20">first scene</a>!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>originally posted on twitter as a twt fic so not my usual quality. then again i have no quality to speak of lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">or am I born in the wink of your lips as they say “I love you”?<br/>
Have you said such a thing,<br/>
or do I hear it in dream?</p><p class="p1">— “A Madman who does not love me” <a href="https://www.arabworldbooks.com/e-zine/a-madman-who-does-not-love-me">Maisoon Saqr</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Osamu and Rintarou just so happen to share the same class. Kita-san just so happens to overhear Rintarou’s complaints about classical literature and offers provide some tips in comprehension. So Rintarou follows Osamu’s lead in lining up his shoes at the gekkan, making sure they are as neat as Kita’s before he crosses into Kita’s household.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou is struck by the scent of sandalwood. The one that clings to Kita that he sometimes catches a whiff of under detergent. It’s a lot stronger here.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou’s footsteps are careful against the tatami floors, sound muffled by socks as he takes a look around his captain’s home. His eyes drawn to the butsudan. The doors are ajar. Rintarou traces the faint wisp of smoke that arises from the stick of incense. Kita catches Rintarou watching. Rintarou is met with the faintest trace of a smile. He quickly takes a seat.</p><p class="p1">It’s a low table. Wooden, sturdy. The scratches on its surface seems to only bolster the image of household items cherished. The cushion flatter than Rintarou would like. Edges worn but not threadbare. The afternoon sunlight spills in as the furin chimes.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou fails to notice the open textbook until Kita taps a finger against the table. Rintarou stares at the crescent edge of it, thin and even, before he lifts his head and remembers why they are here.</p><p class="p1">Halfway through their session, after Kita has displayed his incredible skill of reading upside down while highlighting and narrating the important aspects, his grandmother interrupts with three glasses of barley tea. It is accompanied by light snacks. Ichigo daifuku she made the day before. Rintarou bows his head and conveys his gratitude. Osamu does the same but asks her to stay. She chuckles. A light “fu fu” as her eyes crinkle and Rintarou begins to wonder how much of his grandmother Kita-san resembles. if Kita laughed, would he look like this?</p><p class="p1">She declines, rising as graceful as she knelt. Rintarou watches until she disappears.</p><p class="p1">By the time he turns his attention back to the table, Osamu’s lips are coated with powder with a dot on his cheek. Kita tries to tell him as much. Osamu tries to wipe it off with a tissue but misses. Kita reaches over to do it for Osamu. Rintarou observes as the tips of Osamu’s ears transitions to a shade of red.</p><p>Suna Rintarou knows what love looks like. Or at least what a belligerent crush may appear as. Seen it reflected in a mirror where red dyes the tips of ears, pulse of his heart pounds in his head, and the place where fingers brushed less static and more hand placed on heated electric stove: scalding.</p><p>Osamu doesn’t look like himself. He looks more like the Rintarou reflected in the mirror than anything else.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Rintarou doesn’t say anything until they are on their way home. Ninety degree bows in the direction of Kita’s grandmother. A chorus and echoes of <em>thank you</em>s for Kita-san. the sun is dipping below the horizon. The color it casts paints Osamu the same as what he looked like under Kita’s touch. Two blocks away, no one else in sight, Rintarou asks: “so you like Kita-san?”</p><p class="p1">Rintarou watches Osamu out of the corner of his eye as Osamu goes through the phases of fluster and embarrassment, as if fumbling for something to say — caught between denial and affirmation — when Rintarou interrupts: “that makes you my rival then.”</p><p class="p1">Rintarou looks straight ahead, not bothering to know if it’s the same for Osamu. It’s nice to be able to admit it. To say it out loud. To have it be heard, be real, no longer something hidden and closely guarded.</p><p class="p1">Osamu keeps his pace even with Rintarou even as the silence stretches. It isn’t uncomfortable. Their friendship was built on this sort of ease. After a beat, Osamu says: “yeah.” it sounds more like an exhale. half wrought with relief. “We’re rivals.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">🌊</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">Suna Rintarou wanted to make memories. Before spring comes and forcibly concludes his love. Capture them through lenses and tuck them away where no light can reach. Not just the accidental encounters at the vending machine, the exchange of glances in the halls where Rintarou eyes linger on Kita’s figure, nor furtive glances out the window tracing the head of silver with tips inked in black.</p><p class="p2">The thing about having a rival in instances like this is that Rintarou is no longer alone.</p><p class="p2">Osamu sits backward in his chair during lunch break, elbows taking over half the space of Rintarou’s desk.</p><p class="p2">“‘Sumu will crash us,” Osamu points out the glaring flaw in Rintarou’s plan, instead of questioning <em>why the aquarium?</em> And Rintarou’s convoluted<em> pretend to invite the whole volleyball club then tell everyone but Kita not to show up</em> falls apart easily.</p><p class="p2">“Why don't we just ask him?” Osamu says as if it were that easy. What happened to the flustered kid who teetered between admission and denial?</p><p class="p2">“What if he says no?” Rintarou scoffs.</p><p class="p2">Osamu shrugs. “That’s his right.”</p><p class="p2">Having a rival is useless after all. Rintarou glares as he sinks his teeth into the bread. The plastic crinkles under his grip, once beautiful bread marred with indentation of fingers.</p><p class="p2">“If you won’t do it, i’ll ask.”</p><p class="p2">Under the seeming impassivity as to which that was conveyed, Rintarou only sees determination. Just like his brother, once Osamu’s mind is made up it can’t be changed. It reminds Rintarou of summer break. Of the sweltering heat and the「駄菓子屋」dagashiya awning they chose to take a short break under. Chuupet in Rintaro’s hand. A ramune flavored ice pop in Osamu’s as a tongue darts out to capture a droplet of that artificial blue. Somewhere between the whir of cicadas and Rintarou finishing his chuupet, Osamu says: “I’m quitting volleyball after high school.” As if he were testing it out. Tasting how the announcement feels on his tongue. Rintarou watches the way shoulders seem to relax, how his eyes remain unwavering, and says: “why are you telling me?”</p><p class="p2">It’s followed by a shrug. That’s just how they are.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">So osamu asks after practice, two hands shoved deep into pockets as he does — the only sign of nerves. He’s unflinching under Kita’s heavy gaze. Rintarou watches with a ball in his hands just to keep his hands occupied with something as he steps closer.</p><p class="p2">Kita looks between Rintarou and Osamu.</p><p class="p2">“I just did what anyone would do as a senior. You don’t have to thank me.”</p><p class="p2"><em>Ah</em>. So that’s the excuse Osamu went with. Rintarou would snort if Kita wasn’t present. so much for the bluff of confidence in asking Kita-san out.</p><p class="p2">Rintarou flashes a smirk in Osamu’s direction anyway. Osamu’s lips flatten.</p><p class="p2">“We insist,” Rintarou supplies. “besides, neither of us have been there in a while. it should be fun.”</p><p class="p2">it sounds unconvincing even to Rintarou’s ears. But to his delight, Kita nods after a moment of thoughtful silence.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">So here they are on the way to Suma Aqualife Park. It was either Sumasui or all the way to the one in Kinosaki. Rintarou watches the flashes of Kobe through the window, trying not to look down where Kita sits with his backpack in his lap. Osamu leans against the metal pole, quiet. The rattle of metro doesn’t help shake the nerves out of Rintarou.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">The weight of a camera hangs around his neck as they wait in line to purchase tickets.</p><p class="p2">“It’s been a while,” Kita says after looking around. His hands are on either strap of his backpack and Rintarou starts to wonder how long ago <em>a while</em> is. The image of a much younger Kita with the yellow cap and blue shirt, holding onto the hand of a fellow classmate as he trails after their teacher crosses Rintarou’s mind. He hides his laugh behind his hand at how kindergartener Kita probably held onto his backpack the same way he does now.</p><p class="p2">And maybe the camera rises to the level of Rintarou’s eye.</p><p class="p2">Kita turns around just as the shutter snaps shut.</p><p class="p2">Rintarou lowers it quickly. Osamu turns around, lips tugging downwards as he hands Kita the ticket then almost sends Rintarou’s flying. ( Almost because Kita is there and they have more or less decided to play fair. )</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">Bringing a camera is a mistake. the lighting is a mess.</p><p class="p2">Kita Shinsuke is made of shadows and water. Of blues and the refraction of water that basks him in a halo, turns him holy. The light reflected off the tanks dance against his ashen hair, transforming it into moonlight.</p><p class="p2">In darkness his pupils dilate to let in more light. An amber rim around a center of black — an eclipse.</p><p class="p2">His camera fails to capture any of that. Rintarou glances down at the previews and deletes and deletes and</p><p class="p2">A gentle hand on the back of his. Rintarou lifts his head to find Kita on the other end of it.</p><p class="p2">“Didn’t you want to come here?” he asks with a tilt of his head.</p><p class="p2">Rintarou swallows, heart thrumming beneath the tangential point of contact.</p><p class="p2">“Yeah,” Rintarou says, breathless. perhaps less to do with the touch and more to do with how they have entered the jelly fish zone with luminescent displays.</p><p class="p2">( One glance at Osamu’s face tells him otherwise. )</p><p class="p2">The camera becomes a forgotten relic. Rintarou still trails behind the other two. Sometimes Osamu slows as if waiting for Rintarou. Other times Kita glances in Rintarou’s direction.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Rintarou feels bad as they pass the penguins, the tropical fish, the tortoises. His hands clap emptily at the sight of the penguins even as Kita leans forward to observe. The vibrant yellows, oranges, and blues of tropical fish remain a blur against red coral and pink anemones. Tortoises bring about as much excitement as regular turtles, which isn’t saying much.</p><p class="p2">It brings Rintarou to question: are they too old for this?</p><p class="p2">Where is the wide eyed stares with a mouth half parted in awe? The excitement that used to sing in his veins whenever school held an excursion or his father decided to take a weekend trip and carry Rintarou on his shoulders? Is it because of the coils in his stomach, the constant flickering to Kita’s face to gauge interest? Is it because of the acute awareness that he accidentally spread his legs too far and now his knee has bumped against Kita’s?</p><p class="p2">They are seated to watch the dolphins’ performance. Kita between the two of them. Rintarou doesn’t move away.</p><p class="p2">Osamu on the other side is angled away: chin resting in hand, elbow on knee furthest away from Kita as he looks straight ahead. At least Rintarou isn’t alone.</p><p class="p2">The two dolphins jump in synchrony, splashing water in an arc.</p><p class="p2">Kita claps his hand and maybe they aren’t too old for this.</p><p class="p2">Rintarou has daydreamed of Kita speaking to a bird. Maybe now, he wants to see him interact with a cat or a puppy or just allow Rintarou to hold onto a Shinsuke that is unique to him alone.</p><p class="p2">It’s terrifying. Rintarou doesn’t know what to do with it except let go.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">There’s a sort of ease to be found with finality. Like a gap between points during a match so steep the other side can’t possibly achieve victory. Rintarou rolls his shoulders then as he does now and stops to smell the flowers.</p><p class="p2">He takes multiple pictures of otters, even notes out loud how they hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift away. Kita looks at him like he’s something interesting and it takes everything in Rintarou to not lift his camera and immortalize this moment. ( He does it in his head. Again and again. Hoping it’ll go directly into long term memory. )</p><p class="p2">Osamu comes nose to nose with a seal through glass. Another photograph saved.</p><p class="p2">The arc of the tunnel provides enough light that a flurry of pictures are created. It’s almost idyllic. In the corners of his photographs are parents with their children. Children pointing at a fish and questioning names. Parental indulgence and the friendly guides who awaken some future marine biologist.</p><p class="p2">At the heart of them is Kita with his head tilted back as he chases the stingray with his eyes. It slips in and out of view. Osamu happens to be in frame too, eyes never leaving Kita just like the way Rintarou’s never do — even with a camera in between.</p><p class="p2">A shark casts shadows over head. The fish dart in and out. Flashes of color that slip into view and then away. The ripple of water and the light that penetrates the tons of it. And they all dance around one Kita Shinsuke.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">All areas of the aquarium have been explored when they finally arrive at the two story, 1200 ton tank. Osamu excuses himself and his bladder.</p><p class="p2">This time, Rintarou’s hands aren’t curled against his camera. His hand is furled but loose to the side.</p><p class="p2">The whale shark swims close enough to cast shadows over Kita’s face. Much like how Kita looked upon entry.</p><p class="p2">“I like you,” Rintarou says. They stand close enough for it to not go unheard. It’s loud enough to not be a mistake.</p><p class="p2">His hand unfurls. But anxiety still curls around him as he studies the turn of Kita’s head and the expression on his face.</p><p class="p2">“Thank you” is all Kita says.</p><p class="p2">As unreadable as ever. Rintarou finds his lips twisting into a grin.</p><p class="p2">And that’s the end of that. The end to his love not snatched by spring but rather released from his own hand.</p><p class="p2">The footsteps that approach are quiet.</p><p class="p2">Kita and Rintarou turn their heads simultaneously to see a sheepish looking Osamu.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">The ride home is as quiet as the one to the aquarium. But the world is saturated in hues of violet and the warm orange as the sun sinks below the horizon. Everything in the cabin becomes touched by fading light. Even Osamu is not immune to ichor.</p><p class="p2">Around Rintarou’s neck hangs memories. He thanks both Kita and Osamu before waving as they part ways.</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">🌊</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Osamu stares at the distance between him and Kita-san. The space for one other person. The shadows that trail behind them as they walk home in silence.</p><p class="p2">He lifts his head to look at the sky. It’s more indigo now. Soon it will be nothing but blue. The outlines of leaves will blend in with the dark sky. The birds on a wire only illuminated by street lamps. This day will never come around again.</p><p class="p2">Rintarou’s confession rings in his ears. Both faces shadowed by light from a tank of water, as if underwater but the words too clear and carry too far. Like when Rintarou looked straight ahead and admitted his love for Kita when Osamu was hesitating all those weeks ago.</p><p class="p2">Osamu stops in his tracks.</p><p class="p2">“Kita-san,” he starts despite not knowing where to begin. Just knows what he wants to accomplish.</p><p class="p2">The street lamp flickers on as Kita turns around. Yellow glow falling on half of Kita’s face.</p><p class="p2">It doesn’t change anything. He is as immovable as before.</p><p class="p2">“I like you,” he says and hopes it doesn’t sound like an echo of Rintarou’s. He doesn’t have expectations. Just wants to let it be known in a way he couldn’t before.</p><p class="p2">The crows caw.</p><p class="p2">The “thank you” is not lost amidst the flutter of wings.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dagashiya「駄菓子屋」are hard to describe. they aren't quite convenience stores. ( 柑仔店 in taiwan ) so <a href="https://japaninja.pro/japanese-unique-snack-culture-called-dagashi/">dagashi</a> are light snacks. these are shops that sell light snacks and sweets? not quite a candy shop it has a certain flavor to it. i used the image of <a href="https://twitter.com/maiomelon/status/1292942862636597248?s=20">this fanart</a> in my head while i wrote.</p><p>chuupet are these <a href="https://img.omni7.jp/co/productimage/0006/product/00/625005000/image/625005000_main_l.jpg">things</a> or <a href="https://tshop.r10s.jp/cheeky/cabinet/8501-9000/u508601.jpg?fitin=275:275">these</a> (チューペッ). </p><p>kobe's sumasui link of exhibits <a href="https://kobe-sumasui.jp/map/other/">here</a>. tbh i wanted them to go to kinosaki because toyooka is where i base farmer!kita. however, there's no establishment date anywhere for kinosaki aquarium so.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">I long for your hands,<br/>two doves that shade the blaze of my longing.<br/>Do you too miss me, or do you not remember<br/>the particulars of my voice?</p><p class="p1">— “A Madman who does not love me” <a href="https://www.arabworldbooks.com/e-zine/a-madman-who-does-not-love-me">Maisoon Saqr</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">There are things you believe to have gotten over, like the crush on your old volleyball club captain, that makes itself painfully aware: no, you haven’t.</p><p class="p1">“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rintarou hisses at Osamu, who merely waves at Kita upon Kita’s arrival.</p><p class="p1">“Would it have made a difference?” Osamu says as he unlatches the door that divides the kitchen from the rest of the restaurant. “I thought you knew. He’s my business partner.”</p><p class="p1">“Business partner?” half in confirmation, half testing the words on his tongue and coming to the conclusion that it unsettles his stomach.</p><p class="p1">Osamu nods. “He supplies my rice.”</p><p class="p1">And maybe Rintarou should have known. But they aren’t friends that talk about everything in graphic detail. They are the sort who can leave for periods of time, chatroom dead, and come back as if they never left.</p><p class="p1">“Well, now you know,” Osamu says with a sturdy hand to the shoulder. The door latching shut behind him as he walks to greet Kita-san.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou doesn’t need the pat nor the sympathy.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Rintarou observes Kita’s smile. The laugh that bubbles from his throat. It’s foreign to him. He’s only ever caught two glimpses of it. But here it is ringed by the light that illuminates the interior of Onigiri Miya. And etched itself deep within Rintarou.</p><p class="p1">Osamu looks a little flustered under all the congratulations from their old teammates. A hand behind his neck. He looks comfortable now. Settled. Life in his eyes that seemed to render all those years in high school as just a way to past time.</p><p class="p1">It isn’t relearning because Rintarou has never seen these sides to them in the first place.</p><p class="p1">They have all grown into themselves. Even Miya Atsumu.</p><p class="p1">But Rintarou’s eyes continue to get drawn back to one figure.</p><p class="p1">Kita sits by the counter. Rintarou watches the way he thanks Osamu for the cup of tea placed before him. Rintarou also notes the tea set Osamu had used. Not the tea bags readily available on the menu.</p><p class="p1">Business partners <em>huh</em>.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Somehow they end up with a group chat. Just the three of them. <em>For the good old days</em>, Osamu had said.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou planned on lurking. It doesn’t work.</p><p class="p1">Not when Kita sends pictures of the rising sun kissing the heavy ears of rice. Not when Kita takes a video of the cat curled up in his lap, trying to use both its front paws to ensnare him. Not when Kita asks about certain shops and their queue times, thinking about his grandmother’s sweet tooth.</p><p class="p1">The feeling that arises within him reminds him of the old days. Yet different somehow.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t have time for this. He has a career to focus on.</p><p class="p1">The phone buzzes. A notification from the group chat.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou opens it up and sees a meme from Osamu. He laughs and feels less bad.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Onigiri Miya has a new Instagram story.</p><p class="p1">A small baby duckling in a sink, paddling.</p><p class="p1">“Here’s Tae practicing swimming strokes,” someone narrates. Rintarou immediately recognizes it as Kita’s voice.</p><p class="p1">The phone is kept steady as it fills the little segment where Kita half introduces and half <em>coos </em>over the duckling in encouragement. The video ends with a: “You’ve been a good little ducky.”</p><p class="p1">Rintarou loses it.</p><p class="p1">Hand slapping his thigh because he has evidence now. Evidence! That his theories weren’t wild off.</p><p class="p1">The laughter subsides. Rintarou watches it again. The Onigiri Miya on the left corner bothers him.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">“Suna?” Kita says in surprise when he opens the door. Osamu’s head pops out from the kitchen area, glancing at the door.</p><p class="p1">“Hi,” is all Rintarou can offer. Nothing can excuse his impulse in booking a ticket back to Hyogo after watching the video thrice.</p><p class="p1">Kita opens the door wider to invite Rintarou in even as he asks: “What are you doing here?”</p><p class="p1">What is something he can say other than <em>I wanted to see you</em>?</p><p class="p1">“I wanted to see your ducks.”</p><p class="p1">Fair enough.</p><p class="p1">A snicker comes from behind Kita and Rintarou glares at its owner. But not before passing on the Baumkuchen cake he bought at the station. The one recently popularize and started to become sold as a souvenir.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Kita-san doesn’t ask questions. Just prepares a place for Rintarou to stay. Osamu turned up announced but still spontaneously. Kita doesn’t seem to mind.</p><p class="p1">He takes them both to the enclosure where the ducks are kept. Kita hands them both some feed and a few instructions before heading to the field to check something.</p><p class="p1">“So why are you really here?” Osamu attempts.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou throws a handful of feed to the ducklings and watches them waddle toward him. Scrambling for food. He wants to bend down and coo the way Kita had done in the video.</p><p class="p1">“Same reason you are,” he says instead.</p><p class="p1">Osamu chucks feed in Rintarou’s direction. It’s playful. But also gets all over Rintarou’s clothes to which he yells a <em>hey!</em> for.</p><p class="p1">Kita-san unfortunately walks in then. He glances at Osamu, at the feed scattered, at Rintarou. His lips pull down in a frown of disapproval.</p><p class="p1">“Get out. Both of you,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou and Osamu place the buckets down and walk out. Waiting by the door as they peek at Kita feeding the ducklings with his hand. Rintarou presses his ears closer against the green mesh like barrier, trying to make out what Kita is saying to the ducks.</p><p class="p1">He glares at Osamu. Osamu’s fault that he has now missed out on Kita cooing at ducklings in person.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Rintarou and Osamu dutifully trail after Kita as if, they too, were ducklings who have imprinted on him. An army of ducks follow Kita’s instructions, Kita’s footsteps, and get ushered into fields.</p><p class="p1">Kita watches over them with such pride and fondness Rintarou wishes it could be directed at him.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou takes in a deep breath, eyes on the neat green rows of crop, and exhales it as a sigh.</p><p class="p1">The sky overhead is a brilliant blue dotted by clouds.</p><p class="p1">Osamu looks over at him in concern but quickly turns back to watching Kita.</p><p class="p1">It almost seems as if nothing has changed since then.</p><p class="p1">But it has.</p><p class="p1">All of them have grown taller, built muscle, settled in their respective career. Osamu and Kita, unlike before are probably more than just business partners. Whereas Rintarou is same as he was years ago: volleyball player in love.</p><p class="p1">He tries to make peace with himself. The smile plastered to his face turns true upon the sight of ducks waddling back to concrete and Kita’s voice of “good work” directed at the ducks.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">“Can’t it be the both of us?” Rintarou hiccups. The saké a warm weight in his system. He rests his head on his arm, finger tracing the rim of his cup, wondering if he should press his warm cheek against the surface of the table.</p><p class="p1">And because Kita looks at him quizzically despite both Kita and Osamu holding their liquor better, Rintarou elaborates while pointing: “You, me, him.” A circle between all three of them. “Date each other.”</p><p class="p1">Kita takes a careful sip of his saké and says: “I don’t see why not.”</p><p class="p1">“What?” drops out of Rintarou’s mouth. It wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting — but not this.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou wonders if his mind would clear a little if he slapped his cheeks.</p><p class="p1">“You, me, him,” Kita repeats. Drawing a circle in reverse as he points at Rintarou, himself, and Osamu. “In a relationship.”</p><p class="p1">Rintarou blinks as it is spelled out for him. He misses the look on Osamu’s face completely.</p><p class="p1">“Wait,” Rintarou tries again. If he sounds a little dumbfounded it is not his fault. “So the two of you aren’t dating each other?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Kita says simply. The corners of his lips curl into a smile. “Not <em>yet</em>.” he says as if he’s orchestrated all this.</p><p class="p1">Kita’s flash of a smile where teeth are shown causes two sets of cheeks to warm.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">🐤</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Shinsuke retrieves the newly warmed saké from the kitchen. When he brings it out he notices Osamu draping a blanket around Rintarou’s shoulders. Judging from how Rintarou doesn’t stir, he must have fallen asleep.</p><p class="p1">His cheeks are dusted a pretty shade of pink. A lovely contrast against his dark hair. Osamu seems to agree, judging from the gentle brush of hair out of Rintarou’s face.</p><p class="p1">Shinsuke settles back down at his seat. Osamu folds his legs neatly beneath himself as he reaches for the new glass of saké. Shinsuke watches in amusement.</p><p class="p1">How often has Osamu frequented his place to know where he kept the extra blankets? How often has he shared nights like this with Osamu for Osamu to know down to the temperature of how Shinsuke prefers his saké?</p><p class="p1">Shinsuke watches Osamu’s deft hands pour transluscent liquor out into cups. The first one is placed close to Shinsuke. The second one kept close to himself.</p><p class="p1">“I thought you would be more surprised,” Shinsuke notes as he raises the cup to his lips.</p><p class="p1">Osamu had brought this bottle and gifted it to Shinsuke upon his arrival. It goes down just the way Shinsuke likes it.</p><p class="p1">Osamu covers the lower half of his face with his hand.</p><p class="p1">“I am,” Osamu says.</p><p class="p1">It’s half true, Shinsuke notes, judging from the spark in his eyes.</p><p class="p1">“But,” Shinsuke prompts.</p><p class="p1">“I also was waiting — no. <em>Hoping</em> this would happen.”</p><p class="p1">“Since when?”</p><p class="p1">Osamu doesn’t speak until his cup is empty. Sets it down on the wooden table and takes a glance at Rintarou’s sleeping form before turning back to hold Shinsuke’s gaze.</p><p class="p1">“For a while now,” Osamu says. “A little longer than you have. Probably as long as he has.” Osamu tilts his head in Rintarou’s direction. “He just didn’t know it yet.”</p><p class="p1">Shinsuke chuckles. Hazy warmth making a home out of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CA8HWDagB8j/?igshid=d6bcqas7owzu">duck video</a> that started it all. and for more on aigamo rice farming, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSLzKhBh3Ns">here's</a> a helpful 4 minute video.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><em>Stop being a public nuisance!</em> is texted long with a forwarded picture of Rintarou from last Sunday. In it, Rintarou is napping on Osamu’s shoulder. Shinsuke’s feet in both of their laps because Rintarou had tugged it onto his after noting how it was an empty cabin. Clearly it wasn’t empty for long judging by how someone had taken a photograph of them. But the circulation within the volleyball circuit and Shinsuke not stopping it indicates it is someone they know.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou just snorts at the text. Sends back the rudest sticker he owns. He knows Atsumu’s remarks have less to do with public perception and more to do with not wanting to see his brother and his friend’s successful love life flaunted in his face.</p><p class="p1">Not that Rintarou can help himself. Sometimes he walks in a line in groceries, waiting for Shinsuke to tug him out of the way of another shopper who glares at the three of them. The glares softens at Osamu’s bow of the head and respectful apology.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou doesn’t see the need to change harmless habits.</p><p class="p1">Maybe he should pay Kita’s Farm a visit this weekend. It feels like an eternity since he last slumped against the warm body of one of his two boyfriends.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Rintarou opens the door to his apartment and smells food. He steps in quickly, bending to look around the shoe case instead of quickly kicking his shoes off.</p><p class="p1">A familiar head of silver and black stand in his small kitchen.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou grins, removing his shoes with toes against the heel, glancing down and finally noticing the two extra pairs perfectly lined next to one another.</p><p class="p1">Shinsuke turns at the sound of him walking towards them, a smile growing on his face as he says: “go wash up.” It falls on the same breath as Osamu’s “welcome back.”</p><p class="p1">Rintarou nods at them both, hurrying to his bathroom.</p><p class="p1">On the shelf is a fresh set of towel and a new change of clothes. His laundry basket is empty.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou catches his own reflection in the mirror as he takes off his clothes. The smile on his face wide enough to echo the ones on Osamu and Shinsuke.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Rintarou returns with a damp towel around his shoulders. His arms wrap around Shinsuke’s waist as he rests his chin on Shinsuke’s shoulder. Shinsuke is unfazed as he continues with cooking. Osamu huffs, ladles a spoon of curry and shoves it in Rintarou’s direction for a quick taste test. Rintarou turns his head and takes the spoon with his mouth. He licks his lips afterwards, holding Osamu’s gaze.</p><p class="p1">“At least go set up,” Osamu says, redirecting his attention to the simmering pot. His ears still have a habit of betraying him. Rintarou grins.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks for dropping by,” he says pressing his lips against Osamu’s cheek. He had given each of them a set of keys to his apartment but never really expected it to be used. “I was missing you,” he adds kissing Shinsuke’s cheek before he grabs cutlery from the drawer.</p><p class="p1">Rintarou sets the table. A smile forms on his lips as he catches Shinsuke grab Osamu by the front of Osamu’s shirt and give him a peck on the lips.</p><p class="p1">“You had some curry on your lips,” Shinsuke says upon releasing Osamu, tapping against his own lips. His tone filled with mirth.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Rintarou realizes belatedly, with a head on Shinsuke’s chest and Osamu’s arms around his waist, that Shinsuke no longer only smells of sandalwood. The scent of Rintarou’s detergent was the strongest smell when Rintarou had embraced Shinsuke from behind. His hair smells like the shampoo that Rintarou uses.</p><p class="p1">Osamu no longer looks at only Shinsuke in that way. The same can be said for Rintarou.</p><p class="p1">The weight on his chest is a heavy one. But warm. Much like the curry he had come home to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading!</p><p>shoutout to <a href="https://twitter.com/spinoffprotag">blythe</a> for being my sunaosakita partner in crime ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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